..
Don't know how much you can tell
Don't think I hide it that well
I got this feeling
Everything is going to hell
-Flamethrower, by Econoline Crush
M.O.U.S.E.R.S.
Karai grabbed Raphael's hand and dragged him out after her through the door, into the fluorescent lighting of a small, mostly barren warehouse, and slammed the door as the robots began to charge.
"And just who do you think you are, invading my laboratory like this?" demanded a male voice.
Karai squinted at the man in question, who was standing by a large console of computers. Off to the right sat a wooden desk, its surface a mess of papers, books, and old coffee cups. She had been ready for a lot of things: a large robot, someone in a mech-suit perhaps, the turtles, maybe even some other huge and terrifying mutant. Instead, it was this dorky-looking guy in glasses, a pink shirt, and wrinkled slacks.
"I think 'laboratory' is a bit of a reach," snickered Karai.
The little robots broke through the door, their egg-shaped heads opening wide with bear-trap jaws. A few of their mouths were still crusted with dirt and dust, and Karai's eyes widened in surprise as she realized that these were the things that had chewed through metal and concrete.
"Don't let them bite you, not even your armor," she said urgently to Raphael under her breath.
"Not planning on it," he replied, taking out the first two to reach them with a flash of his katana.
Karai drew her wakizashi and likewise plunged it directly down the gullet of one of the screeching robots, shattering the casing for their apparent energy source. The red light dimmed immediately from its cyclops 'eye' and mouth. She used her foot to push it off the blade and kicked it into another as she took a swing at one jumping for her arm.
Any damage that left their energy core intact had almost no effect on their mobility, but the fifteen or so robots were no match for her and Raphael. Within minutes, they were a heap of scrap metal at their feet.
"Who are you?" growled Raphael at the man.
"I already told you guys, my name is Baxter Stockman," he replied, somewhat agitated. "You will not interfere with my plans again!"
"We've never heard of you," Karai shrugged, unimpressed, glancing quickly to Raphael for confirmation.
Baxter looked aghast. "How many more meddling mutant turtles could there possibly be in this town?! No matter, soon I will have this city on its knees and everyone will know who I am!" he ranted before giving them a smug look. "My MOUSERS are about to make me very, very rich."
"If you hadn't noticed," Raphael pointed out, "your 'MOUSERS' are gone, and my sword is about to make you very, very dead."
"It's a good thing I made more, then!"
Baxter flipped a switch triumphantly and a sliding door behind him opened mechanically, revealing what appeared to be a manufacturing area for the robots. Dozens more of the little terrors poured out in a wave, their metallic claws clanking loudly over the concrete.
"I think we can take them," Karai said confidently.
Raphael agreed with a gleeful grin. "Let's break all his nice toys."
At first, it was fun. Fighting with Raphael came so naturally to Karai that it almost felt like a training exercise. They could anticipate each other's movements, cover each other's weak points, and were unrivaled as a team. One after the other the MOUSERS fell to their blades as they were able to keep the horde at bay with their practiced dance. As they became surrounded, however, their blows were less precise and more about deflection than destruction, which meant they were engaging with the same MOUSERS repeatedly until they managed to take out the lit power source near the back of their heads.
Back to back with Raphael, Karai was starting to tire. She panted heavily as those steel teeth and claws nicked scratches into her armor and across her skin. If one of them got a hold of her leg or arm, she would be losing it, and that knowledge was the only thing keeping her adrenaline high enough to push through her weariness.
Baxter laughed a maniacal, sadistic laugh. "Getting tired?" he mocked. "You can't keep fighting forever, and you can't run away. My Mobile Offensive Underground Search Excavation and Retrieval Sentries are programmed to attack anything covered in the isotope spray you managed to let yourselves get spritzed with. They will track you relentlessly to the ends of the earth."
"That acronym seems a little forced, don't you think?" quipped Karai, unable to help herself despite the danger she was in. This guy was utterly ridiculous.
A sentry leapt up towards her face with an open, screeching maw. With an exasperated growl, Karai shoved her blade down its throat and shattered the power cell, while simultaneously having to stomp on another moving in to bite her shin.
Behind her, Raphael cursed in Japanese.
"Spin me!" Karai yelled over her shoulder. She sheathed her wakizashi and reached back, trusting him implicitly to respond immediately.
Before several more MOUSERS could leap onto her, Raphael had grasped her forearms and pulled her out of the way. She kicked up her legs, bracing one foot behind the other and freeing the hidden blade from her shoe on the leading foot. It connected with one of the robots, and as Raphael spun her in a circle rapidly, her momentum kept it impaled on the short knife and became a bludgeon. It only took two rotations to push them back just enough to give Raphael a chance to pull Karai securely to his chest and leap out of the circle of snapping jaws.
Then she was on her feet again, and they were running with the relentless sentries hot on their heels. Sheathing the knife in her shoe once again, Karai scanned the room and tried to come up with a plan.
"We need to get up to the rafters, buy ourselves some time," Raphael suggested with a heavy breath.
Karai glanced up at the rafters high above their heads. "I can't make that jump," she panted as they rounded the first corner of the warehouse.
"I got you. Head to the desk."
They turned sharply, hopping over the odd sentry that tried to cut them off, and ran to the far end of the warehouse towards the computer consoles and equipment where Baxter was still watching their struggle with obvious delight.
They needed more than an escape route; if Stockman was to be believed, these things would track them anywhere they went. All the technology he had in here needed a lot of power, and he had gerry-rigged thick wires, extension cords, and electrical conduits from every outlet to fuel his mad-science projects. Karai was no electrician, but clearly, neither was Baxter Stockman.
"Ready?" She would only get one chance to cover their escape.
Raphael grunted an affirmation, and Karai unleashed her entire arsenal of shuriken into the wiring. Several of them split, but only one sparked to life, flailing like an angry snake.
"On my back, now!" Raphael hissed in surprise, extending his hand to her.
He helped her scramble up the back of his shell the best he could as he sprinted directly for the computer console beside Baxter's desk. She threw her arms around his neck, then planted her hands firmly on his chest to keep her balance without choking him. His shell was too wide for her to straddle, but if she tucked her knees higher on his shell, her weight stayed centered between where his shoulder blades would have been. It wasn't terribly comfortable, and it was hell on her arms to keep herself steady, but she had run around with him like this enough times to be used to it.
Raphael tensed and leapt onto the desk, ran across the top of the computer control center, then launched himself from its highest point with all of his strength.
Karai held her breath and willed herself to be still.
The pandemonium below of the sentries jumping and snapping their impossibly sharp jaws and the live wire thrashing about faded from her attention. Her entire world narrowed down to Raphael's hands grabbing for the rafters. One of his hands made contact and slipped off, the other managed to grab onto the metal and grip it like a vice. The jostle unsettled Karai's balance briefly, but Raphael quickly got a two handed grip on the beam, the muscles in his arms bulging with the strain.
Karai climbed onto the beam, unburdening him of her weight. He swung his legs up to wrap, hanging upside down by all four limbs. She pulled herself up to straddle the beam and admire the chaos below, digging around in her belt for a lighter.
Baxter was mocking and cursing them in equal measure, but he let out an absolutely girlish screech when Karai held the small flame up to the nearest fire sprinkler. An alarm sounded, and water started spewing down from all the sprinklers, electrifying the entire floor.
"Nice," Raphael praised.
Baxter made a break for it, fleeing the warehouse.
As much as she would have liked to stay and watch as all the MOUSERS sparked and fried, there was no way in hell they were going to let Baxter get away. Breaking one of the higher windows, they slipped out of the warehouse and split up to find him.
Night had fallen by now, but Karai still caught him scurrying towards a car and cut him off. He turned tail and ran, making the mistake of looking back at her as she pursued him. The hapless idiot plowed straight into Raphael's plastron, bounced off it, and hit the pavement. He scooted away from them, looking terrified now that his army had been destroyed.
Raphael fisted the front of Baxter's shirt and dragged him to his feet. "I was just going to kill you, but after that stunt?"
"We can do much worse," Karai agreed with a sharkish smile. "Don't you think my father would just love a visitor right now?"
ooooooooooooooo
Raphael watched closely as Karai debriefed her father on the evening's adventure. Saki could be hard to read, especially in his Shredder gear, but he had his tells. The glint of disappointment in Saki's good eye when he glanced over at Raphael's bloodied scratches softened the tiniest bit for Karai, who was in similar condition.
His gaze went ice cold again as he barked an order to Bradford. "Bring him to me."
Raphael and Karai took their usual places standing to the right of Shredder's throne. Xever was already on the left. Bradford dragged the sniveling man up the aisle, then forced him to kneel about fifteen feet in front of where Shredder was seated.
Sometimes watching Master Shredder's wrath unfold felt like witnessing divine justice itself, while other times it was just a relief to not be the one under his boot. Tonight, Raphael felt both applied.
"Who do you work for?" asked Master Shredder calmly.
"Me? N-no one," Baxter stammered. "I mean, I used to work for TCRI, but they fired me." His ego briefly took over from his cowardice. "They just couldn't handle my genius, but I got my revenge! I built this armor, and I came across some new tech I'd never seen before, an A.I. chip that integrated flawlessly with my mechanical suit. It was amazing! I went back to the office and…."
"Enough!" Shredder cut him off impatiently. "Do you really expect me to believe that someone without any affiliations to my rivals or enemies, someone acting alone, with no protection, targeted the Foot Clan?" He stood abruptly, springing the claws from his gauntlet and closed the space between them. "Targeted me?"
"I didn't know it was you!" Baxter squealed, no doubt staring at his own terrified reflection in the metal claw mere inches from his face. "I swear! The MOUSERS are meant to go after bank vaults, and sure, maybe we raided a Purple Dragon's hideout once, but this is really all just some kind of misunderstanding." He tried to scuttle back, his hands up in surrender, but was blocked by Bradford's giant, canine hand.
Shredder turned away, the clench of his fist betraying his frustration.
"Karai, Raphael, get yourselves cleaned up and visit the medic. Bradford, get rid of this thief and focus on the hunt for the turtles. This is a waste of my time."
"Yes, Master," Bradford said eagerly, tail wagging, starting to drag Baxter to his feet and towards the exit.
"Wait. Wait!" Baxter called desperately. "You're looking for the other turtles? I can help you. I hate those guys. They ruined everything for me. I can build more sentries to help you find them. Please!"
"Stop. Bring him back," ordered Shredder.
Bradford chuffed in disappointment, ears drooping, but did as he was told.
Seeing his opportunity, Baxter went all out on trying to sell himself. "If you let me salvage my lab, I can rebuild and have the MOUSERS scan for the turtles using his DNA signature," he said, pointing at Raphael. "Hell, I can build you anything you want. Create anything you need."
Shredder narrowed his eyes. "Let me make this perfectly clear. You are alive only because I allow it, and I will only allow it for as long as you remain useful."
"Bradford, arrange for him to be transported to the mansion with me. We will see if he can deliver on his promises. All of you, dismissed."
"Yes, Master," sulked Bradford.
Raphael side-eyed Karai.
"Let's go get an antibiotic shot before we die of sepsis," she joked under her breath half-heartedly.
ooooooooooooooo
Their first stop in the basement level of the Watchtower was the dojo, which had separate men's and women's locker rooms complete with showers.
As he scrubbed himself down, Raphael wondered how his brothers managed to live under the city without being coated in a constant layer of filth. Their lair must be kept very clean, or maybe they didn't live underground at all. It was possible that they had a shelter somewhere above ground, but went into the sewers to lose anyone tracking them before returning there. It was certainly an idea worth investigating.
The memory of Stockman pointing at him and saying he could create MOUSERS that track his DNA signature made a quick chill run up his back under the spray of hot water. Something about his cunning and narcissistic personality, combined with his total cowardice made Raphael's skin crawl. Someone like that could never be trusted. When push came to shove, when backed into any corner, or at the barest perception of any danger to themselves, that type of person would do anything if it meant self preservation. Betray anyone at the slightest hint that it was in their better interests.
He was not the kind of person that Raphael would have ever welcomed into the Foot Clan, and he did not want to work with Stockman in any capacity. The only saving grace to the situation was that Saki didn't like or trust Stockman either, and was taking him away to the mansion to work directly under his supervision.
After a quick toweling off, Raphael walked out into the dojo to wait impatiently for Karai. He had never been so eager to get an injection. Who knows what diseases they had just been exposed to in the goddamned sewer.
Karai came out of the ladies locker room in a white, oversized terry cloth robe that was bulky around her neck and shoulders and so long that it nearly dragged on the floor. Her make-up was washed away, her hair still damp and spiked in places, flat in others, and she just looked so young it made his heart ache for a minute. He must have stared a beat too long, and she probably thought he was going to tease her.
She rolled her eyes. "What?" she asked defensively. "I forgot to put fresh clothes in my locker last time, this was the only clean thing I could find."
Raphael smiled and brushed it off, leading her to the medic's office.
Their main doctor had been brought in from Japan, but since he couldn't work every day, and being in the Foot Clan came along with a lot of occupational hazards and odd hours, they had a few more on staff that had been hired locally. That meant there was always a doctor around, even overnight. There were also two private hospitals in the area that received generous donations from the Foot's legitimate businesses, enough that police weren't called for suspicious injuries and the occasional autopsy result could be fudged to prevent further investigation.
Tonight it was one of the American doctors, Dr. Meadows. A quick exam, a preventative antibiotic shot, and a tetanus vaccine later for good measure, and they were free to go.
Raphael and Karai slouched against opposite walls of the elevator, silent and exhausted. As soon as the doors opened up to the barracks level, all hell broke loose on the main level below them. They both groaned in complaint.
Then Karai smiled brightly at Raphael. "I guess this one's yours, since only one of us can get away with walking around naked."
"Just throw something on and come with me," Raphael griped.
Karai sashayed away dramatically in the oversized house-coat and lifted her hand in a wave. "Good night."
"Good night, Princess," he snarked back, taking delight in the scowl she shot back at him.
He skipped the elevator, hopping down the stairs as quickly as he could.
Dr. Meadows had also rushed to the scene with his bag.
A squad of a dozen Foot Soldiers had just returned from a skirmish, and four of them were down on the marble floor. A jolt of anger went through Raphael as he picked up bits of their chatter. While everyone in the highest ranks of the Foot had been busy trying to deal with that idiot Stockboy, these Soldiers had come upon and engaged with the turtles. With Bradford accompanying Master Shredder and Stockman out to the mansion two hours away, and Xever likely at his club after being dismissed from the meeting, and Karai abandoning him in favor of sleep, Raphael was technically in charge at the moment.
The worst of the wounded was curled in the fetal position on the floor, holding her mask and some torn fabric in a wad against her belly. Blood seeped slowly onto the marble in front of her. Raphael cradled her head on the floor with one hand as the doctor pried the bundle away to assess the damage. A long slash on the left side of her abdomen started to well up again as it was exposed, a surgically straight line that had almost definitely been made with a katana.
"Hospital for this one, now," ordered the doctor, pressing the fabric against the cut once again to stifle the bleeding. Able-bodied Soldiers rushed her onto a stretcher and out the door, efficient and practiced.
The next critical patient was prone on his back, gasping for air despite his mask having been removed. He seemed to go into a seizure, and Raphael again protected his head from the floor with a hand, and tried to hold him steady with the other as the doctor flashed a light into the man's eyes. He had the strangest ring of lilac around his pupils, startling in contrast to the brown irises, but didn't seem to have any wounds on him.
"He's on Flip, there's nothing that can be done for him at this point," Dr. Meadows said helplessly.
Raphael didn't personally know the young man he was watching die in his very own hands. He looked like one of Bradford's, and Raphael would be lying if he said he didn't favor the Soldiers from Japan over the cocky, often thuggish American recruits that Bradford had seemed to attract and bring into the fold when he was human. Regardless, this Soldier had been part of his Clan and had tried to follow orders, and his death by assumed overdose felt infuriatingly senseless.
Raphael watched the doctor pop someone's dislocated shoulder back into place and diagnose a couple of minor concussions as the life quietly slipped away from the man. The rest of them were otherwise unharmed but seemed demoralized and tired, as time and again it became clear that unless they had an overwhelming numbers advantage, human Foot Soldiers were just no match for the mutants.
Raphael huffed, frustrated. Was that why some of them had started taking drugs? This new drug he had been hearing about now and then for the past several weeks was on his doorstep, and he wanted answers.
"Dr. Meadows, I need you to tell me everything you know about Flip."